


death of a bachelor

by smallredboy



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Arranged Marriage, Epistolary, F/F, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Letters, Love, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-23 21:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18709903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallredboy/pseuds/smallredboy
Summary: An assortment of letters.





	death of a bachelor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PaintedVanilla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaintedVanilla/gifts).



> this fic's working title was "GAY?!"
> 
> enjoy!

My precious home,

I am still thinking about last week’s escapade. There is nothing like laying on the grass with you at my side, even when you complain about your leg and lean into my shoulder. I am floored with it all, my dear, when I am alone and away from all the duties my family has placed at my shoulders. You know of this, of my father’s wish for me to work in the family business - I would much rather spend the rest of my days with you and not overlooking a factory, with its hungry workers and horrifying conditions.  

My dear brother Daniel has had another attack of his, wailing and holding onto me, begging for me to not let our dear father kill him. Of course, I was horrified at the notion - our father is a harsh man, House, you know this, but not close enough of the demeanor to kill one of his own children. Our mother sang Daniel to sleep, as if we were children again, hanging to her skirts. I know of his strange attitude and actions, but the weight of it is starting to wear me down. I couldn’t stand it if my brother would do anything horrible if I stopped taking care of his attacks, though, so it is a burden I must have on my shoulders. 

It might be a family sickness, now that I ponder about it, dear. My dear mother has always had her aches and weirdness to her, and I am quite easy to disturb myself, as you might know well by now, my dear. I can only imagine this is an ache that is brought in the womb, a thing we can’t escape - Daniel has just got the worst of it, I believe. And you’ve always been a little off, too - no offense, my love, but your impudence and love for the risk and the thrill aren’t hard to miss; your impulse that brought up your limp and your pain. I know, lover, I know.

My dear father has started to look for a bride for myself, and I find the idea a bit ridiculous. I need someone to spend the rest of my days with, perhaps, but I don’t need an impeccable woman for that, House. You are perfect to spend the rest of my days with - with limp and pain and recklessness, yes, I know. You are not perfect - I highly doubt anyone is - but you are perfect for my kind, souls that match together just right, is that not the case?   


I hope I hear from you soon, darling. Do tell me about how talking with your mother went - and oh, about dear Robert’s father’s suspicions. How did that work out?

Ever yours,

James.

* * *

Dear James Wilson,

I hope my dear friend Gregory’s lack of a response to your later has not worried you. In fact, it shouldn’t, and I know precisely the reason of why he hasn’t replied to your letter. Apart from his busy schedule and his mother’s preoccupation for his health, on top of his father’s wish for him to marry, of course.

But anyhow, I have found that your dear House’s actions after receiving your letter have left me quite amused. He got it three days after the date on it, and during a small reunion with Mr. Eric Foreman - Gregory has told you of him, I presume? - and Miss Allison, who I believe is who House Sr. is trying to get him to wed - he started looking at your letter again before starting to walk to the riverbed near his place.

And I am quoting when I say this, that he laid on the soft soil near the river, and spoke - “My friends, I have fallen ill” while holding the letter to his chest. I am sure you are unaware of this side of him, James, but I assure you that this is factual and that Eric and Allison all can testify for the truth of these statements - your beloved Gregory is as much of a romantic as you are.

Afterward, of course, we pestered him about his newfound romanticism, and he got quiet and embarrassed before Allison changed the topic back to the woman she is trying to woo into her arms. I do believe that if House Sr. decides on such an arrangement between her and Gregory, it would be beneficial for both of them - keeping up appearances while they both deviate from the usual norm in this unfortunate time for our kind.

Rest assured that he has not written back not out of intimidation, shame or any other pesky emotions - I am sure he is just having a difficult time matching your adoration in words. Because trust me, dear Wilson - he matches it without them.

Your dear friend, 

Robert Chase

* * *

Dear Wilson,

I apologize for not replying to you for multiple days. In my defense, your impeccable writing and perfect word choice left me stunned for days on end. Robert has given me various hints to his telling of my actions to you and again - I find it all deeply embarrassing. I will get back to you quicker if you stop giving all your letters such extensive  _ flair _ .

My father has also started looking for a woman for me to wed, and his main target for it right now is Ms. Allison. Robert has perhaps mentioned such thing in his letter, so I’ll get to the point - she is also one of our kind, wooing a woman by the name of Lisa Cuddy last time I heard of her doings; a bit older than Allison herself, incredibly kind. She seems to be bearing a child right now, but she still veers into Allison’s flirtations - perhaps she is alone all while wed to a working man. I am not aware of such a thing, but I’m sure Allison would tell me if that was the case.

My conversation with my mother went well, by the way. She was very understanding about my desire not to marry - bringing up my pretense of hating children, and how I am not great at doting on women. She, of course, has given up on trying to make my father stop standing his ground - as you know of his temper and righteousness. The man could get as old as dirt and I doubt he’d ever change his ways.

And so, I might be wed to Allison. Do come to the wedding, I can make some adjustments so you’ll be able to sneak into our room, so to speak. If you too are wed - be it with whatever lucky woman it is - it would be perfect, really, as long as your wife knew of our relationship, too. I doubt you could live with the guilt of infidelity, dear.

About Robert’s father - I’ve always been positive Robert’s a bit of a wonder because of just how terrible at the art of deception he is. Considering he hasn’t touched the subject for days now, I believe he hasn’t been able to convince him of not being one of ours. Maybe his relationship with him is ruptured, but Rowan has no other proof than a quite correct instinct. So Robert should be safe of any persecution; at least I hope so.

I am reading your letter over and over again, clutching it close to my chest.

That is all I will say on the matter.

Yours forever,

House

* * *

My precious home,

My father has found a woman for me. Her name is Sam Carr, her parents wealthier than mine and eager to pay the dowry. She is also a bit past the usual marrying age for women, especially women of her caste - I believe she must be nearing thirty years old. Perhaps they are eager to get her away from their place, or she is eager to get away from them. However it is, we have already met. She is a stunning girl, dearest, I promise you - her hair kissed by the sun in such a gentle way; I have no doubt she will not mind when, after our wedding, I tell her of our secret and of the fact I do not think of the marriage as anything more than a legal bond. 

She has brought up similar points anyway, my darling, talking about her parents’ obsession with finding her a worthy husband; an ordeal that’s lasted longer than four years. I wonder how no one has wanted to marry her off with their son - she’s got an impressive sense of humor, and she is not afraid to speak her mind. Now that I think about that in more depth, perhaps that is why no one has picked her out of all her sisters - she is eloquent and that is a terrifying quality in a woman for a lot of men. Not me, though, although I can’t see her as anything more than a dear friend. I blame my devotion for you on that, dear - I could never lay eye on anyone else and feel what I feel for you.

Our wedding is in a few months’ time, and my dear parents have already started the preparations. My father has gotten more irritable, and Daniel is euphoric for me, hugging me and celebrating me. I think Daniel will be an eternal bachelor like most of ours, dear, but not in the sense we mean with those words, simply literal. It might be a little saddening, but you know the word of our family sickness has gone through all of town.

My dear mother has started cooking more, perhaps to deal with the stress of the wedding to come. I am a bit older than most grooms, anyway, dear - although not as much as you are - and I am a little late to the married life. And it won’t be anything of a typical married life, anyhow. I hope dear Sam understands that - my desire for it all to remain more of something legal than a romance. 

Even considering it is a legality, you are right - I could not deal with the guilt of going behind her back. I do have to let her know of our relationship as soon as possible; perhaps in our next meeting in a few weeks’ time. 

In regards to dear Allison - congratulations! Although it will be only something of legal existence, it will only bring your friendship closer, no? I hope her flirtations with this Cuddy go well, and that Ms. Cuddy’s husband doesn’t find out of it. That would be a mess, wouldn’t you think? We don’t want that on our hands. 

You have always been crass and found formal parties a waste of time, dear, but I hope you do wear your best to your wedding. I have never seen you in such attire, and only the image makes my mind wander, dear, and you know exactly towards what places.

Oh, and about Robert - I am so sorry for him. I hope no persecutions come of this. I will grieve his relationship to his father, as most things I grieve aren’t lives of their own - although you have told me it is a similar relationship to your own father. Nonetheless, he must be suffering. Do not attempt to talk to him about it, though, dear - your impudence wouldn’t be welcome in this situation, I reckon. Leave the poor boy alone.

Ever yours,

Wilson

* * *

Dearest Gregory,

I am utmostly excited for our matrimony - I am sure you will make a fine husband. My mother has been worried about how your pain and limp will affect our marriage, but considering we do not plan on consummating it, I doubt it will be anything short of a non-issue. 

In regards to our deviancy, I have finally managed to taste dear Lisa’s lips. And oh, I am simply floored with how perfect our encounter was. We met at one of the rivers south of London, late at night so no one would see us - she is showing now, dear friend, and she told me she believes it is of the fair sex. Afterward, we laid near the swishing waters, Lisa playing with the hem of my petticoat and of the skirt on top of it before she pulled me into a kiss. And let me tell you - she had put on perfume that night, and I could feel it against her neck, something like mangoes fresh on her skin, and oh, my soul melts just at the memory. 

My mother has already found a wedding dress for me to wear - I think you will like it. I would come visit you to tell you all about this, but as you know, my mother is strict about seeing my husband-to-be and besides, I am swarmed with the celebrations and parties my family is throwing for my engagement.

I hope we see each other soon.

Your dear soon to be wife,

Allison

* * *

My precious home,

I am still thinking about your wedding night. Well, perhaps it was our wedding night, with Allison sneaking out of the room as soon as I left. It did feel like we were getting married, after all, after the time we’re in. You looked incredible throughout the whole ceremony, darling - your coat matched well with the green carnation you wore in your lapel (a pretty subtle nod, love, I adored that as well). How you kissed Allison so convincingly before turning to me and smiling so bright, your eyes with a spark to them I had never quite seen before. Allison took your hand and guided you back to your room, and throughout the dance with Sam I managed to sneak out, her knowing exactly what I was up to, after all.

I do keep thinking about your hands on me, dearest, your lips against my own.   You told me you adored me and you laughed afterward when I looked up at you starstruck - you had never said those words out loud before, dear, I’m sure you remember that. Afterward, we held each other, unable to undress, leaning against your back and crying, crying. I did not understand why I was crying, and I still do not - I felt so full of everything right then, love, so many emotions I cannot begin to categorize. And your hands were so warm, love. They were so warm.

I hope we can meet soon, darling. I hope your hands are just as warm, and that I can cope with the overwhelming ordeal of emotion this time.

Ever yours, 

James.

* * *

Dear Wilson,

Your hands were impossibly warm too, dear. I loved to hold you even as you cried - I wish I could stop your family’s sickness, dear, I really wish I could. Just as much as you wish you could stop my pain and my limp, I reckon. You have been nothing short of perfect these last few days, and I can’t wait to go to your wedding. I am writing this before attending, in fact - you will receive this letter perhaps in a few days’ time. I am sure there will be a lot to talk about.

It has been two days since your wedding, dear. You looked more incredible than I could have ever hoped for, and I see you in formal attire near constantly, as it is what you wear best. Sam looked so happy, I would have believed you if you told me you never confessed about us to her (although it would have been out of your character, I have to admit). And afterward, when she let me into your bedroom - you were stunning, Wilson. You didn’t get off track, you didn’t cry, you held me and you consummated your marriage with the man you weren’t getting married to.

And it was perfect, dear. Sam kissed my cheek afterward and thanked me for attending.

I could get used to this - it is just another stage in our relationship, isn’t it? It is still a secret unspoken of, but now it is like we are united in matrimony. I reckon it’s perfect, dear - what I always have wanted. Allison congratulates us; she is going off to meet Lisa again.

Your hands were warm this time around, too, dear.

Forever and ever yours, until the end of time,

House.

 


End file.
